Till Life Do Us Part.

Princess Elara Luminaris, the eldest daughter of King Alden and Queen Seraphina, the rulers of Elarion. She is next in line to the throne, and besides that she is heavily revered in the kingdom as a 'saint' for her affinity for light magic, which is considered the strongest type of magic. 

The Elarion people love her, and she loved them. 

However, she also very much loves Adrian. 

And though, Adrian did not reciprocate her feelings the way he does with everyone, he did not reject fully reject her as well. Often times, Adrian would treat her the same regard as Lucian. 

Which angers Lucian to a great extent because Adrian was his. 

They met first. 

But since Adrian was one of the four dukes, he regularly sees and meets with Elara. So, they are together more now than Lucian and Adrian are. 

'I didn't think she'd come.' Lucian thought as his eyes narrowed as Elara swept into the room with an air of regal confidence, her silver and sapphire gown shimmering under the chandelier's light.

Her white hair, adorned with delicate jewels, framed a face that seemed carved from marble. She moved with practiced elegance, her every step commanding attention.

The nobles bowed deeply, murmurs of admiration rippling through the crowd. Adrian inclined his head in a show of respect, though his expression remained impassive.

Lucian, however, barely inclined his head, his jaw tightening as he struggled to keep his irritation in check.

"Your Highness," Lord Evander gushed, bowing so deeply it seemed he might topple over. "It is an honor to be in your presence."

Elara acknowledged him with a polite nod before her gaze shifted to Adrian. Her smile brightened, more so today than ever, and Lucian felt a sharp pang of annoyance.

'Why is she so happy?'

"Lord Averin," she said warmly. "It has been far too long. I trust you are well?"

Adrian straightened, offering her a small but respectful smile. "Your Highness. I am as well as one can be, given the times. And yourself?"

Elara's gaze flicked briefly to Lucian before returning to Adrian. "I am well, thank you. I must admit, I was surprised to hear you would be attending tonight. I had thought your duties might keep you away."

'What was that look she gave me just now?'

Adrian's smile didn't waver. "Lord Faelith's celebration is an occasion worthy of attendance."

Elara's smile faltered, just slightly, before she turned her attention to Lucian. "And Lord Faelith, congratulations are in order. This is quite the grand affair."

Lucian forced a smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "How kind of you to notice, Your Highness. I hadn't realized you were attending considering I did not invite you."

Gasps rippled through the room, a symphony of sharp intakes and muffled murmurs. The nobles surrounding Lucian and Elara weren't truly shocked—everyone knew of the thinly veiled animosity between the crown princess and the second-born Faelith son. What fueled their reaction was not the novelty of the insult but the audacity with which Lucian delivered it.

The tension was palpable, like the stillness before a storm. Elara's cheeks flushed faintly, though whether from embarrassment or suppressed fury, Lucian couldn't tell.

Lucian lived for these moments. They were the stage upon which he thrived, where his sharp wit and impeccable timing could shine brightest. Ever since Princess Elara had taken an interest in Adrian, Lucian had gone out of his way to ensure she knew her place—far away from them. Subtle barbs disguised as polite conversation, pointed reminders of his closeness with Adrian, and well-timed displays of exclusivity were just a few tools in his arsenal.

And, more often than not, they worked.

Despite her title as crown princess, Elara was limited in her power when it came to Lucian. The Faeliths' wealth wasn't just vast—it was foundational. They held the kingdom's economy in their grasp, with ownership of trade routes, merchant fleets, and alliances that stretched beyond Elarion's borders. Even the king, her father, knew better than to cross them.

But tonight, something was different.

Elara stood with a poise Lucian hadn't seen before, her chin slightly raised, her presence commanding in a way that felt uncharacteristic. There was a gleam in her eye—a confidence that was almost unsettling.

Before she could speak, a smooth, mocking voice interrupted.

"The crown princess does not need an invitation to grace an event," Cassian Valenor drawled, his words dripping with amusement. "She stands above high society itself. In fact, she could uninvite someone from their own party if she pleased."

Lucian didn't need to turn to recognize the speaker. Cassian's voice, laced with arrogance, was as familiar to him as it was grating.

Of course.

Lucian suppressed the urge to groan. Two of his least favorite people, both uninvited, had now inserted themselves into his birthday celebration. He plastered on a brittle smile, though his eyes sparkled with something far sharper.

"Fortunately, I am not just anyone," Lucian replied, his tone sweet as honey but sharp enough to sting.

A hush fell over the crowd, the air growing heavier with expectation. The nobility had learned to tread carefully during these encounters, their collective breath held as if they feared being caught in the crossfire.

Cassian Valenor, heir to the Red House and Elara's cousin, was perhaps the only person in the kingdom who dared challenge Lucian so openly. Unlike Elara, who retreated under Lucian's relentless pressure, Cassian met his sharp tongue with a blade of his own.

"Indeed," Cassian said, tilting his head in mock contemplation. "You aren't just anyone. You are the proud Wasteling of the Faelith household."

The reaction was immediate.

Gasps echoed louder this time, punctuated by scattered whispers. The insult was a calculated strike, and it landed with precision.

Wasteling.

The word hung in the air, heavy with venom. Though society had begun to tolerate same-sex relationships, full acceptance was still a distant dream. Those who defied traditional norms were labeled Wastelings, their existence deemed an affront to the kingdom's future.

Lucian's smile didn't falter. If anything, it sharpened, his emerald eyes glittering with dangerous amusement. "Ah, Cassian," he said, his voice almost playful. "Still clinging to your limited vocabulary, I see. Should I commission a tutor for you? Someone experienced with slow learners, perhaps?"

Laughter rippled through the crowd, hesitant at first but growing bolder. Cassian's jaw tightened, his composed mask slipping just enough for Lucian to see the irritation beneath.

"Careful, Lucian," Cassian said, his voice low and menacing. "Your sharp tongue might cut you one day."

Lucian raised an eyebrow, his smirk unshaken. "Better a sharp tongue than a dull mind. Though I suppose dullness runs in your family." His gaze flicked to Elara, his smile saccharine. "Present company excluded, of course."

Cassian's expression darkened, but before he could retort, a new voice broke the tension.

"That's enough, Cassian."

The Duke of Valenor stepped forward, his imposing presence commanding immediate attention. His stern gaze pinned his son in place. "You will not disgrace this gathering further. Apologize to Lord Faelith at once."

Cassian's lips pressed into a thin line, his resentment barely concealed. For a brief moment, his glare shifted to his father—a silent rebellion—but he obeyed. Bowing slightly toward Lucian, he muttered, "My apologies, Lord Faelith."

Lucian tilted his head, his smile triumphant. "Accepted, though it's not every day I hear you admit fault. How refreshing."

Before the Duke could respond, Elara stepped forward, her voice soft yet firm. "Gentlemen, please. This is neither the time nor the place for such quarrels." Her words were gentle, her tone measured, but Lucian wasn't fooled. She wasn't diffusing the tension—she was redirecting it.

For a fleeting moment, Lucian's gaze flicked to Adrian. He had remained silent throughout the exchange, his expression unreadable. But then, something caught Lucian's attention: a brief, almost imperceptible glance between Adrian and Elara.

Elara's gaze seemed to hold meaning, and Adrian's subtle nod suggested he understood.

Lucian's stomach churned, unease creeping in. Something wasn't right.

Straightening, he forced a sarcastic edge into his tone as he addressed Elara. "Your Highness, I've known you for quite some time, and out of all my birthdays where you were uninvited, you've chosen this one to grace us with your presence. Dare I hope you brought a gift?"

Elara's smile deepened, and the look in her eyes sent a shiver down Lucian's spine. "Why, yes, Lord Faelith," she said, her tone as sweet as poison. "In fact, I wished to use this occasion to make an announcement."

Lucian's eyes narrowed. "An announcement?"

Her smile remained, but there was something almost predatory in her gaze now. "Yes. One I simply could not wait any longer to share."